


Of Quidditch and Breakups

by scottishtragedies



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Deamus, Fluff, Gay, M/M, angsty, do they kiss? read to find out, fluffy as fuck, not clickbait
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-05
Updated: 2018-03-05
Packaged: 2019-03-27 07:09:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,325
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13875792
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/scottishtragedies/pseuds/scottishtragedies
Summary: Seamus and Dean schedule a private quidditch practise before tryouts, but things don't really go as planned.





	Of Quidditch and Breakups

Having a crush on his best friend was hard enough. But, having a crush on his best friend who has been engaged in a heterosexual relationship for ages made the whole ordeal even harder. 

 

Seamus was resting in the common room. He was lucky enough to have snatched one of the squashy armchairs before anyone else could get to it, but it hadn’t been that difficult, as everyone was spending the day in Hogsmeade. After all, it was the first visit of the year. Seamus, however, decided not to go, as he was preoccupied with the large stack of homework he had been assigned. 

 

Seamus checked his watch. 3:49. Dean promised him he would be back from the village at 3:45 because the two had made plans to head to the quidditch pitch at 4:30 to squeeze in an extra practise session before tryouts tomorrow. But the minutes ticked by, and Dean was still nowhere to be seen. 

 

3:51.

 

3:59.

 

4:01.

 

Seamus pushed himself angrily from his chai and stormed upstairs to his dormitory. From underneath his four-poster, he pulled out his trunk. The majority of his trunk was dedicated to his quidditch gear, and it didn’t take him long to extract his practise things: a pair of battered shoes stained with splotches of dirt from his consistent daily training, tattered armour that once belonged to his great-uncle Ferdinand, and a splintered helmet with chipping red paint. He quickly pulled on a sweater and changed from his lounging trousers to a pair of corduroy jeans, tugged on his armour, slipped on his dirt-stained shoes, then fled from the room. 

 

The sky grew darker as Seamus made his way across the grounds. Part of him regretted leaving, what if Dean was in the common room right now, wondering where he went? But, the other part of him was glad he left. After all, Dean clearly hadn’t cared that much about their scheduled practise anyway, since he didn’t even bother showing up on time. 

 

_ He’s probably snogging Ginny behind the Hog’s Head right now, laughing that I’d be stupid enough to  _ actually _ believe he’d show up,  _ Seamus thought.  _ It’s always Ginny this, Ginny that! ‘Oh, Seamus, have you heard? Ginny got an “outstanding” on her transfiguration essay! Seamus, her eyes are like the fucking forest, so deep and you just can’t avoid getting lost in their exquisite beauty! For Merlin’s sake, Seamus, I think I’m in  _ love _!’. Good for you, Dean. Good for you, you're in love and I’m pining over someone who will never even  _ like  _ me back. Good for fucking you.  _

 

Seams flicked on the light in the quidditch shed. He forgot his broom in his dorm, and, in fear of colliding with Dean if he were to go back, he decided it would be safer to use one of the school’s. 

 

It wasn't a terrible broom. A Comet 260, not too different from the 290 he was used to. It had a few bent twigs and the handle had several chips here and there, but otherwise it was in stable condition. As long as he stayed in control of the steering and didn't max out the speed, Seamus was confident he would be able to fly it with relative ease. 

 

Seams snatched a quaffle from the ball trunk, then flicked off the light and headed outside. 

 

It was nearly dusk now, stars were beginning to appear— Seamus could recognise the constellation Lyra above him —and the edges of the autumn sunset were barely visible behind the vast castle. Seamus gazed around the empty pitch, trying to ignore the loneliness that was ever-so-annoyingly nagging for his attention from the pit of his stomach. He flung his leg over the broom, centred himself, and kicked off from the ground. 

 

Flying was extraordinary to Seamus; the way the wind felt cold against his face, everything moving in an unrecognizable blur, and the world beneath him growing smaller and smaller the higher he flew, like one of the miniature doll sets he used to play with as a kid behind his parents’ back. Flying made him forget, it made him clear his mind of everything but the present. In circles he flew around the pitch, diving through and between the goal posts, performing silly rolls and dips through the brisk night air. He threw the quaffle through each of the hoops several times, making quick reflexes if it hit the rims, never allowing it to fall to the ground. 

 

He made shot after shot, point after point, into the hoops, his confidence about tomorrow’s tryouts increasing greatly. It’s not like he would have much competition anyway— Katie Bell would no doubt get a spot as chaser, as she was a returning player. But other than her, there were still two spaces open, and the only other people Seamus knew of that were planning to tryout were Dean, Ginny, and this girl called Demelza Robins. He could outfly Ginny any day, that he knew. Dean was an okay flyer, but he didn’t have a consistent aim. He had never seen Demelza play, but she wasn’t a big worry for Seamus. He only needed to do better than two other players. He could do this, at least as long as he didn’t completely have a mental fit when Dean showed up on the field. 

 

After a couple solid hours of practise, the air grew colder and sweeping, dark grey rain clouds began to maneuver in the sky over the grounds. Seamus could hardly see without the star or moonlight, so, after failing at three blind shots, he hopped off his broom and headed to the quidditch shed. 

 

The light was already on, and a small twinge of guilt trickled through Seamus. He’d been out for hours, and he hadn’t shut the light off! A complete waste of energy. 

However, when he entered the shed, he wasn’t alone. In the corner, fumbling with a quaffle, was the last person he wanted to see. Dean. 

 

“Oh, so now you show up?” Seamus spat, taking Dean by surprise. 

 

Dean looked flustered. “What?”   
  


“Don’t remember, do you? Oh, yeah, sorry. You were too busy snoggin’ Ginny in Madam Puddifoot's to give a damn.”

 

Seamus wrathfully tossed his broom and quaffle to the side, before turning to leave. 

 

“Seamus, where’re you going? You don’t understand, just let me explain!” Dean pleaded, chasing after the other boy. 

 

“Don’t understand?” Seamus turned to face him. “I completely understand. Why don’t you just call up Ginny right now, go for a spin with her, toss around a bloody quaffle between makeout sessions, I don’t care. Just leave me out of it.”

 

“I’m not going to call up Ginny. What’s got your wand in a knot?” 

 

“Absolutely  _ nothing _ .”

 

“That’s clearly bullshit.”

 

“Yeah, maybe. But I’m going to bed, and please, for the love of Merlin, don’t follow me.”  Seamus turned, leaving Dean alone in the cold, and began walking back up to the castle. 

 

Dean, though, completely ignored Seamus’ request. He ran after him, and it wasn’t until Seamus was  _ also _ running that he said anything. 

  
“Ginny dumped me, Seamus! She’s off going after Potter now!” Dean panted. “Please, can you stop for a moment?”

 

Seamus stopped dead. “What?”

 

“I told you. I’m not with Ginny anymore. She dumped me—well, we sort of dumped each other.”   
  


Seamus’ face was blank. He felt like an utter shit head for having a go at Dean, for being so 

livid that he didn’t show up on time. He wished he could turn back time to fix everything. 

 

“Dumped  _ each other _ ?” Seamus questioned, putting strong emphasis on the last three syllables. 

 

“Well, yeah,” Dean paused. “We both wanted to, erm, see different people.”

 

“Oh. Right. Well, I hope it works out with you and whoever.”

  
“Yeah, me too.”

 

Dean smiled, and, as the two walked back to the castle, he smoothly laced his fingers with Seamus’. 

  
  


**Author's Note:**

> Hey! I've never done Deamus before, and I really enjoy writing it! Maybe I'll write some more oneshots or even something a bit longer sometime. Also, if you read my other works you'll know that I've been having trouble with bolds/italics, and I'm happy to say that I've finally figured that shit out! I might edit some of my older works so the italics can be emphasised.


End file.
